


tangerine

by unicornball



Series: Colors [18]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: DWRColorsChallenge, First Kiss, M/M, Possible Season 12 Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-21
Updated: 2016-10-21
Packaged: 2018-08-23 18:04:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8337487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unicornball/pseuds/unicornball
Summary: It's been three days since he's had a moment with Dean, three days since he found out Dean was alive, the feeling of weak-kneed relief still hits him whenever he looks at Dean.





	

**Author's Note:**

> _Today's color:_  
>  Tangerine  
> tan·ge·rine (/ˌtanjəˈrēn/)
> 
> a reddish to vivid orange color, like that of a tangerine fruit.
> 
> _I was inspired by Misha's love of orange underwear lol So, now Cas does too since I don't think he'd give two craps what his underwear looks like._
> 
> _Also, there will be some minor spoilers for season 12—so continue with caution if you're not caught up and don't enjoy spoilers._
> 
> _Enjoy._

Dean takes a moment to breathe, rolling his shoulders and making himself relax a little. The Bunker is quiet, even though there's four people living here now. Sam's back and finally sleeping peacefully (he checked, old habits die hard). His mom is back, in a room two doors down from Sam, and sleeping too. Cas is even here, which settles him more than he's expecting it to.

He checks the Bunker one last time before he heads to bed, still feeling too-exposed and unsettled since they've had unwanted visitors. Cas helped with some better sigils and warding but he still has to make sure before he can turn in for the night. Another old habit he hasn't tried hard to break.

He runs into Cas at the front entrance, heartbeat thumping erratically from surprise. Cas looks sleep rumpled, comfortable in sweatpants and an old T-shirt he thought he'd lost in a laundromat a few months back. He stares for a long moment before frowning.

"Cas," he says, voice a little breathy, hand on his chest. He thought Cas was sleeping, still a little wiped from the whammie the suped-up banishing sigil and those nasty brass knuckles put on him. "What're you doin' up?"

Castiel shuffles in place, glancing down the quiet hallway before meeting Dean's eyes. He feels bad he's startled Dean, especially after the stressful last few days.

"I couldn't sleep," he admits, looking away for a moment.

He'd had a talk with Mary before she went to bed, her questions about him and Dean bringing up his own questions. Questions he'd been content with leaving alone, questions he didn't think would ever get answered. And he'd made peace with it. But then Dean walked away to die and he'd regretted every time he didn't ask, every time he didn't broach the issue himself. Hugging Dean that last time wasn't the moment, he knew that.

But now.

It's been three days since he's had a moment with Dean, three days since he found out Dean was alive, the feeling of weak-kneed relief still hits him whenever he looks at Dean.

Dean tsks softly and pats Cas on the shoulder. He's been there. He slides his hand down to Cas' arm, tugging lightly to get Cas to follow him. Cas does, of course, and they head to the kitchen. It's only when he flicks the lights on does he realize his hand is still on Cas. But Cas looks perfectly happy to leave it there, even leans in closer.

He's tempted to drop his hand, move to the cabinet he keeps the hot chocolate and stick to the original plan, but he can't. He nearly died without ever telling Cas the truth and that's just not something he's happy to ignore anymore.

Castiel looks at Dean, head tilting a little when he sees the expression on Dean's face. It's not something he'd ever expected to see when Dean knew he was looking. He exhales softly, warmth filling him when Dean leans in. He knows they should talk, but Dean's hand sliding down to intimately cup his hip is distracting, the other gently holding his chin between thumb and forefinger steals any words he might've had.

It's only been three days, but with everything that's happened, Dean's surprised it took them this long. There's a long moment of staring, Dean working up the courage to go those last inches, trying to quiet the inner voice telling him Cas isn't into him like this, that he'll push too far and ruin everything.

He's surprised Cas moves first, leaning in with a soft sound that makes heat flush over his skin and through his entire body. His eyes flutter closed with anticipation. Cas' hands are tight on his face but he barely feels it when their lips meet.

It's awkward for a moment; Cas just leans against him, lips pressed together. But then he's angling his head and Dean kisses back with a soft groan. He'd been afraid kissing Cas would be weird, that hard features and stubble might be different enough to make this a bad idea. But it lights him up, feels right and good to have Cas like this.

Cas isn't passive, not now that Dean makes a pleased little hum and deepens the kiss.

He's not sure how they go from a tentative kiss to this; pressed tight against each other, rutting and panting into each other's mouths. But it feels too damn good to think about too long.

Cas breathing hot and wet into his mouth, hands slipping boldly down the back of his sleep pants as he presses closer. The thin sweatpants do little to hide that Cas is half hard, pressing hot and insistent against him. It's another thing he thought would break him from the moment, feeling the hardness against him, but it just heats him up even more, sends a shock of pleasure though him. He moans, pleased to know Cas is enjoying this, wants it too.

Dean slips a hand down Cas' lower back, body heating all over when Cas makes a guttural sound of pleasure and presses into his hand eagerly, mouth hot and firm against his. He fumbles with the waistband of Cas' pants and nearly loses it when he pulls away to kiss down Cas' neck and sees a flash of tangerine. The ridiculous, bright underwear that Cas had picked out with a happy little grin, shaking his head at Dean's sensible package of plain white.

He almost ruins the moment laughing, the same warm feeling of affection bubbling through him that day, even as he palms Cas' ass through the ridiculous underwear. And oh, he's got his hand down Cas' pants. He follows the elastic band over hard hipbones. The urge to laugh leaves as quickly as it came at the feeling of Cas hot and firm in his hand, the deep moan from Cas makes him shudder with pleasure. Bright tangerine is less ridiculous when he traces the hard shape of Cas through the soft, thin cotton, his hips twitching towards Cas just as eagerly.

Dean goes with a guttural moan when Cas pushes him up against the fridge, a clinking rattle of bottles from inside drowned out by sound Cas makes as he goes back in for another kiss.

He palms eagerly at Cas' ass, groaning softly when Cas grinds their hips together with a soft growl. He bites off a curse when teeth nip at his bottom lip and down to his neck. Cas makes a soft sound against his throat, lips soft as the kisses gentle he places in a line along Dean's collarbone, unbearably soft and sweet. The kisses stop and Cas' forehead thumps to his shoulder, hands gripping his upper arms tight.

He's panting, a little thrown by the sudden change, but wraps his arms around Cas. He presses a soft kiss to Cas' hair when he can feel Cas' breathing stutter, a rush of moist heat against him when Cas exhales in a shaky rush.

They stand quietly for a moment, the heated rush dissipating as they cling to each other. He doesn't know what to say, doesn't know what changed to have Cas' face pressed into his neck with a soft, wet snuffle.

"I thought you were dead," Castiel whispers. He tightens his grip on Dean, eyes hot and throat tight. "I thought you'd died and I never got to tell you—"

"I know, Cas," Dean murmurs, running his hands over Cas' heaving back. "I know. Me too." He tucks his face close to Cas' and goes with the quiet moment, holding Cas and letting him calm down. It's been a tough few days and he still has to remind himself that this shit affects Cas now.

By the time Cas' hold loosens, they're both breathing normally and no longer flushed. He ditches the hot chocolate plan and takes Cas' hand. "C'mon," he murmurs, urging Cas out of the kitchen and down to his room. It's a little strange having someone else in his room, but Cas fills the space unobtrusively, like he fits right in alongside the pictures and weapons. Dean fidgets a little as Cas looks around as he settles on the edge of his bed.

He sits next to Cas, hesitating only a moment before taking his hand, lacing their fingers and resting them on his knee, running his thumb back and forth along any part of Cas' hand he can reach.

A gentle warmth coils lazily, relaxing him. Exhaustion catches up with him and he yawns, eyes watering a little. His eyes are gritty and tired and he's pretty sure he could sleep for hours. He looks to Cas, almost regretting the earlier heat has cooled to this comforting warmth, but this is good, too. And he's pretty sure they'll get there again.

He looks with surprise when Cas pulls away and stands up. His head drops, trying to hide his disappointment. He didn't expect things to change overnight, but—

Cas is pulling the sheets back and climbing into the free side of the bed. Dean stares for a long moment, stunned, before finally getting a move on and doing the same.

He doesn't know what he's expecting, but Cas just rolls onto his side and looks at him, a small warm smile nearly buried in the spare pillow. He's tempted to scoot closer, maybe take Cas' hand, but it's too new yet. It's weird having someone this close, just there and in his bed, but that it's Cas seems almost normal. Normal enough his eyes are closing and he's sinking into his memory foam with a yawn and a sleepy "Night, Cas."

Dean drifts off just after the whispered "Good night, Dean."


End file.
